I didn't sleep that night.

How could I, knowing that Tristan was somewhere in the packhouse, furious with me and planning whatever horrible punishment he'd decided I deserved?

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face. The rage, the fear underneath the rage and the way his voice had cracked when he'd said he couldn't lose me.

I'd hurt him, really hurt him. And not just by putting myself in danger, but by betraying his trust. By sneaking out after he'd specifically told me not to ...